


Let's Get Loaded

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Juris Imprudence [9]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6306679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: Any, Any, <i>So let's get loaded tonight / We'll drink on the flight / Back home the honeymoon is over</i></p><p>Jack and Daniel talk after Daniel's angry love declaration in the middle of the office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Get Loaded

"How old were you?" Jack asked. He poured himself a second tumbler of scotch. He and Daniel were in Daniel's office, because it had better soundproofing for when he was translating. Also, it was Daniel's home ground. As a managing partner, Jack had too many advantages over Daniel. Had over a decade on him right off the bat. If they'd done this in Jack's office, like Jack had called an employee to the carpet –  
  
But everyone else was gone. It was just the two of them.  
  
"Seventeen," Daniel said.  
  
Jack remembered what he'd read in Daniel's file. Emancipated from foster care at sixteen, started college the same year. A prodigy, was Daniel Jackson.  
  
"I was interning on a dig," Daniel said. "I was fascinated with Babylon. My parents' specialty had been Egypt, and I'd spent most of my childhood there, but I didn't want their achievements to overshadow my own, so...Iraq."  
  
Jack closed his eyes, and he was back in that dark, dank cell, pressed in with too many other unwashed bodies, listening to footsteps crunch in the rough dirt outside, listened to the soft clicks and hisses as their guards checked their weapons. AK-47s were ideal for desert combat. They were inaccurate as hell but would fire under any conditions. He was closest to the bars, which meant he had permanent imprints in his back from being pressed against the bars all night. But he also had the kid next to him, long fingers stroking the nape of his neck, murmuring to him in Arabic when he needed it, in English when he needed it more.  
  
Jack opened his eyes. "Did you know who I was? Before you applied here?"  
  
"I saw your dog tags." Daniel stared into the bottom of his empty glass. "They were the only English words I'd seen in I don't know how many days. I read them over and over again. I had no idea you'd be here till I looked up your firm and saw on the website that you specialized in VA issues and had a staff comprised mostly of veterans. I was – hopeful, when I saw your last name on the letterhead. I was sure when I saw your picture."  
  
Jack took a deep, shuddering breath. "Were you ever going to tell me?"  
  
"I can guess what they did to you," Daniel said. "I heard your screams. You never told them what they wanted to know, but I could hear – I assumed you'd either forgotten, because that's what most people try to do with trauma like that. Or you remembered but didn't want to talk about it. That my presence here was painful for you. But then you started inviting me over for pizza and beer and Indiana Jones and Tomb Raider, and you seemed to like me. I didn't know what to think. That you were healing, maybe. Reaching out to be nice. Because everyone knows all about me – tragic orphan, bouncing from home to home in foster care, alone at sixteen. I'm sure Lorne was very thorough."  
  
"Not so thorough that I made the connection," Jack said.  
  
Daniel peered at Jack through his lashes. "There were some things I wanted to forget, too."  
  
Jack studied him. "What did they do to you?"  
  
"Nothing I couldn't cope with, with the assistance of a talented therapist."  
  
"You were married." Jack reached for the scotch, hesitated.  
  
"So were you." Daniel poured himself another glass.  
  
"You really love me? I mean – it wasn't just hero-worship or, or something else, because of what we went through?"  
  
"I did happen to yell it in front of our entire office, in case you missed that part." The corner of Daniel's mouth curved up, but the way he drank down that scotch belied the levity of his tone.  
  
"But –"  
  
"But what? I'm wrong to have spent years loving a man who was brave and kind and selfless? Who gave me comfort during one of my darkest times?"  
  
"You were seventeen," Jack said finally.  
  
"I'm not seventeen anymore. And I know you better now. Love you more. You're a good man, Jack."  
  
If only Daniel knew. What Jack had done. Why he'd been in Iraq. How he'd ended up in that prison.

"We work together." Jack flicked a glance at him.  
  
"That we do." Daniel met his gaze.  
  
"I have...principles."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"About not taking advantage of –"  
  
"You're not my direct supervisor. That's Elizabeth."  
  
"About not mixing work and –"  
  
"Pleasure? So all those movies and nights out were pain?"  
  
"Daniel –"  
  
"Jack." Daniel rose up. "Here's what I recommend. Freak out. Get drunk. Do what you need to do. Call Teal'c and rant at him. Rant at Sam, too. And when you're sober and the hangover is gone, come talk to me." And Daniel walked out, leaving Jack sitting at a desk that wasn't his own, drinking scotch that wasn't his own.  
  
Jack headed home. But the took Daniel's advice. He broke out the Irish whiskey, and he got blind drunk. He was hungover the next day, which was thankfully a Saturday, and Teal'c came to check on him. Teal'c called Sam, and together they coddled him and scolded him.  
  
They listened to him rant and rave and freak out. Teal'c nodded serenely in all the right places. Sam told him in frank, scientific terms, where and how his logic was flawed. When he was sober enough to manage on his own, Sam and Teal'c left, and Jack sat staring at his phone.  
  
He picked it up and dialed.  
  
"Jack," Daniel said.  
  
Jack smiled. "Daniel."


End file.
